the blog

My gorgeous Mikey: Your life is extraordinary whether it feels like that or not.     I promise. You are so much better than any of the horrible things you’ll have to suffer in a lifetime. The world may define you by adversity or triumph, but don't define yourself by those things.   I can’t imagine what your fantastic brain is doing now. The things that other people's brains can disguise or hide ...  burry or break, well ours they can make a symphony of that stuff; a painful, wicked, e x h a u s t i n g symphony. I know you're tired; I’m sorry you’re stuck with such a lonely gift.   We just can’t help but to process and process our ideas until there are so many sub-thoughts the rest of the world has moved on. We toil and think and imagine until every cut is bleeding daylight.     Maybe right now this ability doesn’t seem so much like a gift, maybe it seems like a burden; but you can make grace of a mess and it will serve you. It will.  You have a w

I opened my eyes, half way, like every morning; I could hear the roller coaster and faint screams, it was joy, right?!?   It sounded like joy.   And I could see curious beams of sunlight sneaking into my room through the curtains that I failed to adjust properly at bedtime the night before; the night before you left me, the night I wasn't thinking about you. Why wasn't I thinking about you? ...Why wasn’t I imagining your laugh, oh that laugh was contagious.   I write this to say goodbye. I write this to say thank you. Oh yes, I was telling you about the morning: back to that morning. Come with me back to that black morning – mourning …   the sounds were masquerading as joy, but they had fooled me—I opened my eyes—not to joy, not to beams of light, but thousands of painful stings like pricks of a million bees feasting on my heart, it was awful. I guess we have a choice of what we want to feel, believe, and focus on. I know what you’d want me to choose. It’s just really

In the beginning, back to my earliest memories, I started out as any kid does, absorbing the world like a sponge. Except ... I was emotional and erratic as a child. I was blissfully unaware; I was a dreamer.   I had this wild heart and I was unreasonably prone to the highest of highs and of course hit hard by the lowest of lows. I could be completely knocked off any course by my emotions. They would flood me and my clarity, I was captivated... mind, body and imagination. Then, I learned how people saw me, not just how I wanted to be accepted, not how I believed I was ... but how--at face value--I was received. The way other people see you shines a shade brighter than the person you think you are. This awareness began to develop at the tender age of 12, and It was then that I began a path to reinventing myself for the very first time.   "BEFORE YOU CAN reinvent yourself, you have to know who you currently are; people need to understand their strengths, their weaknesses,

Dear Scotland, I have wanderlust, and you have perpetuated my sickness. It was one those nights, the onset felt something more like catching a flu; just achy, heavy and happening regardless of my opinion.   I somewhere between waking up that morning and post-performance that evening, I had lost my ‘joie de vivre’ but nonetheless, I had committed to going and so that’s exactly what I did.   As I stepped one foot out the stage door, I left my funk right there on a sad, damp step. My night was underway no time for agendas. So I stepped on a wave and rode it until late or early depending on how you look at it. 6-hours prior to the onset of that night, I was choosing something dramatic to wear. My tone that morning was much more enthusiastic; I was looking forward to a night out in a truly historic city. How exciting … good food, interesting people, and all the while looking and feeling quite fancy. Fortunately, it only took me about three bites of gorgeous risotto to feel a glimm

"What a man... what damn good man." How can I write this and not sound as bias as I know I am? He changed my life, and I will never be the same. Knowing someone is good, and good for you doesn't have to mean you they are so for any romantic reason. Allow me to be 'oooey' and 'gooey' and apologetically partial because sometimes people deserve that. Good people, especially them, they deserve to hear that they are good. And good is contagious; happy is contagious and we can spread those things around too. He did that. I'm sitting here in gate B8 next to a woman who seems to be a bit too cautious of germs; taking a wet-wipe from her bag she cleans the rim of her wine glass and rotates it two revolutions to check it's safe -- w e l l, 'safer'. I can't help but think about all the things we call afflictions; the fears and little bites of control that we keep floating around our beautiful, breakable lives. Those tormented and diseas

I went to Edinburgh, Scotland to work, but I managed to squeeze in some R&R too, and of course that nagging pull I have to continue exploring the world... It was a rainy night and I was craving real conversation, I decided I wanted to have an evening out, so I got to work setting those wheels in motion. I pulled out my phone and began swiping left and right to find a companion.  Before long, I had managed to secure a meeting place at a local pub, with a man who had two pictures and no profile paragraph. Over brief texting we both agreed on liking beer. There you have it, meeting in public for beer with stranger. This should be fine. As it turns out, it was fine. All those miles from home, and right there in a tiny Scottish pub, I sat drinking American beer with a fellow American. Bizarre as it seemed, suddenly I wasn’t lost and alone, suddenly I wasn't thousands of miles away from family and friends. Suddenly there was a touch of the familiar, a burst of comfort, and with

This is part of the story, a path to a worthy man.                                                                      " Experience is cruel teacher" ....sometime in the year 2013. During this past  year, being single, I colored outside the lines and with hope in my fingertips, I swirled and scribbled and looked for shelter outside the lines. Every moment that I explored had me prisoner of an experience formally unknown to me.  One rendezvous turned several had suspended my life indefinitely.  The rules : there were no walls or expectations; there was no safety.  And before long, the room was always spinning and I was functioning in a place I didn't like. Chapter one is always interesting. But this got boring faster than a book you have to read. He preached, "...this connection we have is beautiful, but there is no space for needs, emotion,  or expectations", he said it with his actions and with his motions and, he said it with every minute he avoided g

A letter to my CAST, First, can I say, thank you! I look around me and see artists not just by profession but by nature. I see painters, dancers, singers and musicians; I see passion, effort and mad imagination. I see the rage to master. And so it is, we live our fascinating lives and choose to leave wait our functioning worlds to contribute to a different kind of world, but it’s a world where we fit in, we lend our hearts and hope it matters. "They may forget you, but they certainly won’t forget how you made them feel." What an honorable task, to make them feel. I want to thank you all for sharing a stage with me, and thank you in advance for all the days ahead of us because I know you will also share yourselves with me. I hope we can preserve the madness and magnificence required to keep going. I hope we can love one another especially when we least deserve it, because that is when we will need it the most. I am dedicated to ALL of you; I am committed to this journ